Shake That Somewhere Else
by weapon13WhiteFang
Summary: The boys learn to always and forever clean up any of their messes, less they wanna face an accidental torture technique, that leaves even the man of torture himself in a speechless state.


**Disclaimer:** Do not own Human Target, or any of its characters. Just my imagination ;)

**Author's Note:** This is what happens when you decide to stay up late and listen to Eminem music. I was going through all my dance music and kinda dancing along, when "Shake That Ass"by Eminem ft. Nate Dogg, came on and I started laughing cause the first time I played this song and danced to it, my friend goes "Whoa! Shake that ass... Somewhere else! Not up on me!" And as I'm laughing about that memory, this slowly started to form. So blame nostalgia and randomness

**Shake That Somewhere Else**

Cases had been light for them. Ever since the big case dealing with Ilsa's deceased husband, the late Marshal Pucci, Ilsa and Chance were dodging around each other on tip toes, and the rest of the group was left to witness on the sideline.

Well when Chance and Ilsa weren't providing entertainment, Ames would find herself bored. Beyond bored. She hated boredom. It was like an annoying cancer to her. She'd debated going off to try and see if she could break into the new lock Guerrero had on his locker, but decided that she liked living to much. She definitely wasn't up to helping Winston with paperwork, and Chance was busy sleeping upstairs and avoiding Ilsa, who was typing away at her computer in her office.

So that left Ames bored still.

Huffing, she looked around, just wanting something to do. Reaching mindlessly into her pocket, she pulled out her iPod and ear buds, before popping them into her ear and flipping through her songs, as she pushed herself up from the kitchen table and sauntered into the living-room to lean against the couch where Carmine was sleeping on pillows, beer and soda cans, and what appeared to be take-out boxes.

Ames wrinkled her nose. The living-room was dirty. Coffee mugs, messy clothes, beverage cans, take-put boxes, dirty dishes, the works. Had Ilsa not seen this place? It was gross! Did Chance and Guerrero have to be so damn nasty? OK, more like, did _Chance _have to be so nasty? Guerrero was actually a bit of a neat freak in everything he did. She guessed it went with his paranoia of things.

Ames wasn't much of a neat freak. And she wasn't much of a house cleaner. But she was bored to the point of desperate for something to do. So with a sigh, she kicked off her boots and socks, and shouldered off her denim vest, leaving her in a spaghetti strapped, belly button top and short shorts, as she tightened her hair in a ponytail and flipped through her songs, before hitting the shuffle button.

"_Shady, Aftermath,"_ a smirk spread across Ames's lips. Although this was an older song, she loved it. It was so easy to dance to. _"There she goes shaking that ass on the floor. Bumpin and grindin that pole. The way she's grindin that pole, I think I'm losing control!" _As soon as the opening ended and just as the first verse began, Ames began to move her hips and body to the rhythm, going to work at cleaning up the room.

Her hips wiggled and her head bobbed, as she walked around and slowly went to work, humming and mouthing the words, picking up all the cans and tossing them into the recycling bags that Ilsa had in the kitchen, before going at the pillows and cartons of food.

"Dude..."

With her ear-buds in, and distracted by the music, she did not realizing what she was doing and who was around to witness her move her hips in such seductive ways. Didn't notice the look of discomfort on Winston's face as he stepped into the living-room from his office section. Nor did she see the raised brow or hear the clearing of his throat from Chance.

"_I'm a menace, a dentist, an oral hygienist. Open your mouth for about four or five minutes. Take a little bit of this fluoride rinse. Swish but don't spit it, swallow and I'll finish" _Ames sang, as she swirled her hips before throwing the last of the cartons into the trashcan, not seeing the wide eyed expressions on the men's face. Didn't see the slight squirming shifting they were now doing on their feet. Sure she was younger than them, but they were men. No matter how they tried to downplay it, their nature was kicking in, and she was the one kicking at it.

"Man.. I'd rather be tortured by you right now," Chance mumbled, his mouth seeming to be going dry as Guerrero, much to his disdain, found his eyes following Ames's ass. "You and me both, dude..." Behind them, Winston cleared his throat and mumbled something about feeling old, before quickly heading to the kitchen.

_"There she goes, shaking that ass on the floor. Bumpin and grindin that pole. The way she's grindin that pole. I think I'm losing control!" _Ames hummed, as the song came to an end, as she straightened out the last pillow, sighing in content, before turning around, tilting her head she found an uncomfortable looking Chance... And Guerrero (Guerrero? Uncomfortable?) staring at her.

As Lollipop by Framing Hanley began to play, she pulled her ear-buds from her ears and waved. "Whats up? We got a case or something?" She sauntered over to where her vest, socks, and boot lay, bending over and giving a clear view of her ass, as she slid on her socks and boots, raising a brow as felt eyes on her from behind.

Grabbing her vest, she stood up straight and turned off her iPod, facing the boys as she wrapped the headphones around it, before stuffing it into her front pocket. "You really need to learn to clean up. I seriously just saved your ass from getting yelled at by Ilsa," she chuckled, pleased with herself as she slipped on her vest and headed to Ilsa's office to see if she could leave. Cleaning had given her something to do, but now that she was beyond bored again, she figured maybe she could try gossiping with Ilsa.

As she walked past them, a sly thought crossed her path, and she slowly let her hips sway more, almost busting up laughing when she felt eyes on her back as she slid into Ilsa's office.

"Dude," Guerrero grumbled as soon as Ames was out of earshot. "Clean up your own messes from now on, or I may have to kill you if I have to see that again... That was the most fucked up torture ever... And I thought I'd seen everything." Chance nodded numbly, giving him a lopsided boyish smile. "No problem, man."


End file.
